


Chipped

by TerresDeBrume



Series: Get Back Up [2]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Chipping, Chips - Freeform, Forceful Registration, G-Men, Gen, Harm to Children, Mutant Control, Mutant Registeration, Non Consensual use of painful contraption
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-09-03
Updated: 2011-09-22
Packaged: 2017-10-23 09:27:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerresDeBrume/pseuds/TerresDeBrume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at one of the most Important days in a Mutant's life: the day they're chipped. Starting with Charles, and then working its way through our group of friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Charles

Raven watches with enormous eyes as Charles extracts himself from under the thick covers on the morning of the 9th of October, yellow orbs fixed on Charles’ messy hair and sleepy face with vivid red pillow creases imprinted on his cheek. He looks moody, a deep frown etched on his face and his lips set in a thin, unhappy line, like he really, really doesn’t want to face the day.

Raven doesn’t understand why, it’s like any other day, right? Breakfast with the Butler, avoid Mother and the Maid, then get on with his lessons... and Charles likes his lessons, even if they’re often too easy for him.

 

Yet Charles must have seen something else on the calendar –Raven can’t read it yet, letters are hard enough to learn without trying to decipher the funny little loops of Charles’ neat handwriting- because he dresses before he comes out of the room, the black suit mother had him made for the burial of whatever great, great aunt on his father’s side died a month ago. The suit is too large, too black, and Charles is too pale: he looks like a ghost in it, and Raven hesitates before gripping his hand, like she always does when he’s like that, always expecting his fingers to be cold around hers.

Charles’ hand is warm though, as it always is, and Raven follows him to the grand staircase, a little intimidated by the thick air of the hallway. Cyprien is there, all clad in his usual black uniform, ramrod straight as he always is. He gives a funny look to Charles and Raven as they come to the last steps, and open the door when Charles nods.

 

The thick Mahogany reveals two men, one of whom is posed as though to knock, the other with a hand still hastily combing through his hair. They both look surprised and Raven, in a flash of mind beyond her age, understands that Charles is trying to scare those men, to make them pay for whatever faults they’re about to commit. (She’ll realize later on that he’ll never get tired of making the lives of the Mutant Control Agents difficult, much to a certain Erik Lehnsherr’s delight, because Charles may have trouble coming to terms with his non-humanity, but he’s never going to accept that he should be treated like cattle.)

 

“She’s still asleep,” Charles says before any of the men has a chance to speak, “Cyprien will be our witness.” A beat, then: “Yes, and yes. Please agent Morin, do move on to another topic of consideration, I don’t need to know about Charlene and her favorite toys.”

 

Raven giggles as she sees the palest of the men grow red in his black suit, not noticing the disapproving glare the Butler gives Charles. Later, she’ll think maybe her Big Brother could have been nicer to them –really, he could- but then she’ll also learn the two agents were quite partial to lifelong imprisonment for freaks such as Charles and herself, and therefore settled their fates for the next thirty years between that first encounter and their retirement.

 

“The living room will do.”

 

Charles gestures for the two agents to follow him, and walks to the Grand Salon, one of the most impressive rooms in the house, thick with old wealth and memories of generations of Xaviers, both in the US and across the seas. The men, who have yet to speak a word, look ill at ease, like they don’t know what to do with themselves in front of this boy with his intense gaze and otherworldly sister –later, they’ll remember her and give strained laugh in the Theatre where they’ll watch James Cameron’s Avatar.

 

Charles wordlessly takes a pile of forms from the first man’s hands and starts filling them with his father’s fountain pen, silently passing them on to Cyprien to sign as well, as a witness. Charles doesn’t normally use telepathy with the Domestics, for most of them don’t like it, but Cyprien is an exception of sorts, and if he is bothered by the uncanny silence, he doesn’t show it, resulting in two G-Men squirming in a very unprofessional way on the ancient leather couch.

Charles is just as silent when he carefully rolls his right sleeve up and presents his wrists to the redheaded agent.

 

“You are going to inject about five millimeters of metal next to my bones,” Charles says when Redhead opens his mouth to speak, “just because I’m ten doesn’t mean I am naïve enough as to think this won’t hurt.”

 

And Charles, whom Raven has seen tear up at the mere mention of blood samples and nearly faint when the Doctor said he’d need a second set, doesn’t flinch when the thick needle pierces his skin and sinks in the flesh. His lips are a disappearing line at the bottom of his face and he looks paler than ever, spirit-like in his black suit, but his back is straight and his gaze is clear as he fixes the men in front of him.

Later, Raven will say that this is the exact moment Charles became the biggest hero of her life.

 

He bears the pain in his right wrist for three weeks before he can go on writing normally and the giant, purplish bruise finally fades away, like nothing happened. But the scar remains and, as soon as he is able to, Charles manipulates a few minds to make sure the chips are transferred from right to left wrist.

 

He’d like to remove them completely, but at least this way, the majority of Mutants won’t be incapacitated like he was after their shot.

 

Small steps indeed.


	2. Alex

Scott has always had his laser vision, from the very beginning, and Alex knows Mom and Dad really _don't_ like it.

(To be quite honest, he's not entirely comfortable with it either, but Scott is his little brother, and it's his role to protect him, Bazooka-glare or not, and in a small town in the most forgotten part of Nebraska like theirs, it's never been an easy feat: Alex learned very early on to distinguish between the various sorts of bruises, whether he wanted it or not.)

 

 

So anyways. Protecting Scott.

 

 

All in all, that was easier to do _before_ Alex himself started blowing things up... like, for example, the front door, on the very day Scott was supposed to be chipped, and right when the G-Men were about to knock.

 

Alex _could_ forget the look on Mom and Dad's face, and he supposes if he were to allow himself a little lapse in Morals, he _could_ let himself forget the Agents' faces, but he knows, with absolute certitude that he will never, _ever_ get rid of the smell of charred flesh, or the sickening _crack_ of Scott's skull agains the living room wall when he's blasted off by the shockwave that sends them all into oblivion.

 

 

When he wakes up two weeks later, Alex has a chip in his right wrist and no idea if Scott is alright, or if he's even _alive._

 

It takes three years until Alex is out of prison and Darwin, as his councelor and newfound best friend, helps him find Scott again, meeting Sean along the way.

 

Then Alex meets Charles, and even though he _knows_ he'll never _forget_ what happened, he hopes maybe he can forgive himself if he can make sure what happened to his family doesn't happen to anyone else.


	3. Sean.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not everybody knows it afterward, but Sean actually started out a Proud Mutant.

Not everybody knows it, afterwards, but Sean actually started out a proud Mutant.

 

Well, proud.

 

As much as you can be when you’re fifteen and the last of nine brothers and used to holler all through the house -because, I don’t know, Connor stole your snack, or Ewan can’t stop being a dick, or Colin should keep the fucking radio down when you’re doing your homework- and it’s relatively alright until, one day, James calls you carrothead and the planned, undignified ‘carrothead yourself arsehole’ you wanted to throw back in his face comes out as a shriek that shatters all the windows instead.

 

After that, there’s a whole lot to deal with: changing the windows –fast, ‘cause _of course_ it had to happen in winter- calming the bros down, and, when everything else is done, the Files.

Sean goes with Dad to the registry office on a Tuesday afternoon, and they sit alone in a clinical looking room for hours before a plump little woman with a kind face comes to them and gets them to her office. They follow her to a back door leading to the regular city hall offices –Mutants don’t come in by the same door as everyone else- and then through the crowded corridors, deeper and deeper into the building, until Sean can’t breathe properly anymore and they’re sitting in what must have been a broom cupboard at some point, a small mountain of paperwork threatening to smother them if they move the dingy desk around too violently.

 

“You’ve got to fill this, then report to my office right across the corridor,” the woman says, and then she’s out before Sean has time to protest against the sheer _ridiculousness_ of so much paper to register him because he’s a _teenager_ damn it!

 

He needs helps with growth spurts and weird voice and girl problems, and some goddamn clue about how _not_ shatter every piece of glass in the house every time he opens his mouth, not papers to fill about his natural hair color, height or right foot toes! Yet, that’s what he’s asked to do, so he sits down next to dad and, together, they work through the questions and charts and diagrams and everything.

 

When they come back home with a paper giving them the date for Sean’s chipping, the moms in the street call their kids back, and the guys Sean used to play with look at him with scornful eyes. They taunt him with ludicrous tales of killing voice and curses and everything… Sean hesistates a long time before facing them and saying:

 

“Boo!” Everybody flinches, and Sean smirk sadly. “Yeah, I can break glass with my voice,” he sighs, voice scratchy for lack of use during the past week, “bet you all wish you could do stuff that’s half as awesome.”

 

He straightens his gangly limbs and walks into the house with his head held high, hoping things will go better.

 

They don’t.

 

During the month following his registration, Sean experiences all sorts of abuse: random shouts in the streets, raw eggs on the house façade, bagfuls of dog shit in his locker in school… One time, a dozen guys from the hockey team corner him in the gym and start pummeling him to the ground, and it takes both Colin and Ewan’s intervention to get him out of it.

He wears the blood like a banner on his face for the rest of the day, and gets in a row with Ewan because he refuses to lay low. He’s a _mutant_ damnit, not a monster!

 

 

Still, little by little, the tension adds up.

What will happen after he’s registered and the nurse starts filling his chip? Will he get into trouble? Will he end up in those mutant control facilities where they put kids with _really_ dangerous powers? And what about school? Things aren’t going to magically calm down when he’s chipped, what’s going to happen to Colin and Ewan? What’s going to happen to _Matthew_? Will he be forced to chose between his post as math teacher and his brother?

 

When the men in suit come, Sean is holed up his room, body trembling in the small space between his bed and the wall, and it takes forever for Bradley to talk him out and into the living room. He goes to sit at the table, sleeve rolled up, until he sees the collar.

 

“What’s that?”

“Just a little thing to help you control you voice.”

 

The ‘little thing’ is a leather collar with needle-like hooks that go _inward_ and a lock. It looks painful and ugly and wrongwrongwrong, and Sean most definitely does _not_ want that to go anywhere near his neck _ever_. He’s halfway back up the stairs when the men in suit come after him and he starts running.

Dad is yelling in the hallway – _DON’T HURT MY SON!-_ and Mom shrieks and Sean’s brother are hollering their protests when Sean tries to slam the door to his room, but G-Man number one catches his foot in the door and no matter how hard Sean tries, he can’t keep him out forever.

 

“I don’t want to put that on!”

“It’s for you own good son!” The man says, weighing down on the door, “C’mon, open the door!”

“C’mon can’t you see the kid’s terrified?”

“-hurt my little bro I swear I’ll-”

“My poor baby, my poor, poor-”

“MOM! Quit whining for fuck’s sake and _do something_ for-“

“I don’t want that on! DAD! Please, don’t let them– !”

“He’s a _kid_ for God’s sake, what d’you expect–”

“Come _on_ kid! Open the door _now_ or you’ll be in big trouble!”

“I DON’T WANT THAT ON MY NECK! PLEASE, PLEASE, I DON’T WANT THAT, _PLEASE_!”

 

The men in suit join their effort to slam their shoulders in the door at the same time, and blood trickles down Sean’s nose when he hits the ground next to his bed. G-Man One barges into the room and Sean leaps to his bed, tries to go to the window, third floor be damned, but a hand catches his ankle and this time it’s his forehead that catches on the windowsill. He feels himself dragged by the ankle and he kicks out, trashes like a madman to try and free himself, lashes out with his fists and feet and teeth and _everything…._

And then, when he doesn’t know what else to do, he screams.

 

He screams like he’s never screamed before, high and wild and raw and _panicked_ and _terrified_ and _I don’t want the collar please not the collar anything but the collar pleasepleasepleaseplease –_ Dad’s presence next to him barely registers, and Sean doesn’t even notices it when he’s freed from the G-Men’s grip and even the blood oozing down Eoin’s ears isn’t enough to make him stop because he doesn’t want to be treated like a fucking _dog,_ he _can’t_ accept that, can’t _stand_ it…. And then one of the G-Men grabs hold of his dingy alarm clock and slams it in the back of his head.

 

Eoin stays in hospital for three months, and then they’ve got to move out, cries of ‘Banshee, banshee, banshee!’ following the van as it pulls out of the driveway.

 

It hurts, the silence, the knowledge that Eoin will never yell at them to _shut up, I can’t hear myself dreaming over the sound of you!_

 

It hurts, yes.

Yet there is always a part of Sean that can’t help thinking losing the ability to hear can’t hurt more than the needles blocking his vocal cords. It can’t hurt more than knowing your own government considers you to be about as worthy as a dog, if that.

 

He doesn’t know it yet, but in six years’ time, when he’s freshly arrived at NYU, he’ll step in a garage shop for his scooter and meet Alex. He’ll fall ass over teakettle for him and finally, _finally_ , find enough courage to remove the collar, let the wound heal and start living again, _speaking_ again in a practically endless babble that’s going to annoy most people he’ll meet afterwards.

 

Until then though, until he trips on a puddle of oil and fall right into the arms of the drop-dead gorgeous mechanist and wonders when his life has become such a pathetic rom-com, Sean will not say anything.

 

In fact, he won’t make any sound at all.


	4. Darwin

Agent Murray is no newbie: this is far from being his first chipping and, honestly? He’s starting to get tired of it. At first he thought it was the drama –parents crying, children hiding, screaming in fear… Heck, not six months ago, a toddler in Oregon created a tornado in his parents’ garden, and the two agents who’d come to chip him were killed when the house tree fell on their heads.

 

Agent Murray does his best not to be afraid of Muties, but sometimes, it’s difficult not to be… some of those powers are fucking terrifying!

 

The kid he’s seeing right now though –Armando Muñoz, his papers say- doesn’t really look frightening. According to his registration form, his Mutation has to do with adaptation –apparently, the kid doesn’t get sick, doesn’t get hurt, which is one of the very few powers Agent Murray finds useful and maybe a tiny bit jealous of –but that’s because his cousin Lorna got killed by a stray bullet two years ago, and he kind of wishes she’s been able to survive that.

Anyways, ten years old Armando is short, rather skinny, and he has those big doe’s eyes that’ll get harsher with time but still look like a fucking Disney. He would look absolutely adorable, if not for the fact that he is impeccably dressed, obviously wearing his best costume, and Agent Murray is uncomfortably reminded of the little kid he chipped last month who answered his questions before he had time to ask them.

 

That one was creepy as fuck, and Armando is much too similar to him with his tidy attire and his straight back.

 

“Hi,” Agent Murray says when he reaches the door where Armando is waiting for him –and he feels relieved when he’s got time to actually _say it_ before the kid answers.

“Good morning sir,” Armando says, “my parents aren’t home for the moment, but please, do come in.” He gestures for Agent Murray to follow him and leads him to the living room, where a tray full of pastry is waiting for them along with tea and coffee. “Would you like something to drink?”

 

Agent Murray has seen many, many things in his career: kids who cried, kids who insulted him, kids who tried to fight, tried to flee, kids whose parents almost begged him to take them away, kids whose parents fought teeth and nails to protect from any kind of aggression whatsoever. He’s seen kids attack him with their power and _fuck_ some of them are more than a little impressive.

 

So far though, that polite kid with a neat outfit and manners to die for holds the second place of the Scariest Mutants He’s Met.

Because, you see, the Mutants you really need to watch, those who hold the potential to change things, to lead and orient their kind, to block a tsunami or let it come crashing down on ordinary people, whether in good or bad ways, it’s not those who fight back, it’s not those who bring houses down, it’s not those who try to run from him or even those who try to kill the Chippers… those are angry, but too disorganized to do anything constructive or truly world-changing.

 

No, those who hold true powers are those like little Armando, like that kid in the black costume with his blue sister: it’s those who have enough wit to stay polite, enough patient not to lash out, and enough gut to be very clearly passive-aggressive toward men like Agent Murray.

 

Which is probably why he has to force himself to eat a scone like he’s feeling perfectly normal instead of rushing through things. This kid is ten and, already, Agent Murray can predict he’ll do big things for his community –and he’s right: in a few decades, Armando Muñoz will become the very first Mutant Senator of the United state, the first Mutant to ever access a post with national-wide responsibilities, whatever the country considered.

 

He wastes eleven needles trying to pierce a skin made to keep everything out, closer to trembling at every snap because he can’t stand the sight of those eyes, straight out of a Disney and yet so heavy on him already, so knowledgeable of the pains of this world it’s gut-twisting to just think about it.

In the end, he gives up and gathers his material before announcing:

 

“I’ll write a report explaining why you can’t be Chipped. You should receive a registration card in the course of the month. Do not lose it, and wear it on your person at all time.”

“I will, sir,” the kid answers, and once again he sounds too calm, too old. “You know your way to the door.”

“Goodbye, Armando.”

“Darwin.”

“Sorry?”

“My name is not Armando,” the kid repeats. “It’s Darwin.”

“Your parents named you Armando though,” Agent Murray remarks, more curious than angry.

“My parents named a baby human,” the boy answers calmly. “I’m a Mutant.”

 

Agent Murray stays stuck into place for a long time before he remembers he is supposed to leave.

 

Years later, when he recounts his long career for interviewers looking for stories on Senator Muñoz or Professor Xavier, he will always maintain that despite everything, despite the years he spent Chipping kids before and the overwhelming _power_ emanating from Charles Xavier, Darwin Muñoz was the first real Mutant he ever saw.


End file.
